


In Sickness and in Health

by orphan_account



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gillian becomes unwell during the latter stages of filming The Fall in Belfast and David is extremely worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It couldn’t have been any later than half past five in the morning and she was awoken abruptly from sleep by overwhelming nausea and bolted to the bathroom, just managing to flip the toilet seat up before spilling the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. This was the fourth time this week. She heaved for several times, nothing coming up but the acid burning her throat causing a searing pain in her chest. She swiped at her watering eyes and wiped her mouth on a tissue, standing on wobbly legs to make her way back to bed for another half an hour or so. She thought she was over this stomach bug, a delightful present from her son. Oscar was now much better but she’d been being sick a couple of times a day since she’d left London and it was now Thursday. She was getting fed up with it and getting headaches at work from the dehydration as well as concerned glances and murmurings when she ran off set half way through a scene.

She lay in bed looking at the ceiling and failing to fall asleep, knowing the alarm was soon to go off. Her phone buzzed on her bedside table and she wondered what time her alarm was set for before she realised her phone was ringing. She knew who it was before she read the caller display and realised he was probably just heading to bed in Los Angeles and taking a chance that she was awake.

‘Hey,’ she croaked, her voice cracking and breaking into a cough. Damn she was hoping not to give the game away. She reached for the glass of water on her bedside cabinet and took a couple of sips, soothing the hot burning sensation in her mouth.

‘Hey you, you’re still sick.’

She hated the way he instinctively knew when she wasn’t well even though he was thousands of miles away. She held the phone away from her as she finished coughing, angrily rubbing her eyes which stubbornly refused to stop watering.

‘Yeah, I’m just not getting over this for some reason. I’m alright. How are you, how was your day?’

He knew she was trying to get out of him questioning her by turning the focus back to him. She was trying to tell him that the subject was closed to her, but he wasn’t going to let this drop that easily. She’d been throwing up for days now and from what he understood Oscar was very briefly unwell at the weekend but was now much better and back at school. It seemed she’d been ill for much longer and he was worried with all her night shoots and hours filming that she was sicker than she thought. Not that it would ever stop her going to work.

‘I know you don’t want to talk about this but if you’re sick again today Gillian please go to the doctor later. For me.’

She paused, breathing into the phone gently and picking at fluff on the duvet that she’d curled around herself. She could hardly refuse him when he asked her in that tone of voice and used those two words. For me. It transported her back to New York and happier times immediately and the corners of her mouth arched up into a smile.

‘Okay I will. I promise. Now please can we change the subject. How are you?’

‘I’m good. Just talking over shoot dates, been for a swim. The usual. I’ve been thinking of you though…’

She smiled into the receiver somehow knowing that he could hear her doing it, but distracted by how nauseous she was feeling despite really wanting to concentrate on what he had to say. She took another drink of water and the sound of his voice soothed her. She felt herself relax back into the pillows, hugging the duvet closer. There was a niggling thought in the back of her brain that she hadn’t had her period since February, before she’d started shooting The Fall but she dismissed it as impossible. Her periods had definitely slowed down over the last few months and her last before February had been at Christmas. She was forty five and the change was clearly on its way. There was no way it could be anything else causing her to be sick, could there?

‘Hey are you still with me?’

He was just about to tell her that he’d speaking with his lawyers in New York and was putting together the final application for closing the final chapter on his marriage. Divorce for him had been a long time coming but he was finally feeling like this was the right time to draw a line under the last seventeen years. He knew she hadn’t really heard what he said but all he really wanted was to hear her voice and know she was alright. Unfortunately she was still sick and even though he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself he still worried about her. She was on her own in Belfast and he had half a mind to get on a plane and go and take care of her so at least someone would. He couldn’t help but feel protective of her, they’d become so very close over the last few months.

‘What? Oh David I’m sorry. I tuned out there.’

‘Hey it’s okay. You sound tired. I just called to say hi. What time do you have to get up?’

‘In about half an hour.’

‘Go back to sleep baby.’

She wished she could speak to him for longer but she was really starting to feel like she needed the extra few minutes sleep before work today. She wasn’t due on set until nine and she could probably sleep a little longer so decided to reset her alarm.

‘Okay well, goodnight.’

‘Night sweetheart. Text me when you finish later, I’ll call you.’

She caught a glance at her face in the screen of the phone as she hung up and saw the familiar red spots under her eyes that always came up every time she was sick. Today would be the last day of it, she was sure. If it wasn’t she’d head to the doctors tomorrow before the weekend, definitely before the weekend.

++++

They’d been filming on location near the river with the forensics team gathering evidence. She hadn’t had many lines to get through, she mostly just had to be around and in shot for which she was grateful. The stabbing pain had hit her out of the blue and square in the stomach and she’d quickly excused herself, knowing what was about to happen. She ran a few short steps and ended up vomiting behind a tree, feeling rather mortified. She really did hate being sick and especially with an audience. A couple of crew members had kindly got her some water and tissues, and the director had taken her aside, firmly telling her that they had enough material with her in the scenes until Monday, possibly Tuesday. He had suggested she flew home to London to get some rest. She nodded gratefully and the car had taken her back to her hotel to pack up her belongings. 

She wondered how on earth she’d get to see a doctor, even though she didn’t feel that unwell she had promised David she would if she was sick again and it wasn’t a promise she was about to break. She was worried herself about the duration of her symptoms and needed the reassurance from a professional. Luckily seeing as she was practically living in her hotel and had a British passport it wasn’t too difficult at all, and the receptionist had organised an appointment in her room for six that evening.

She glanced at her phone and found it was half past four. She had a while to pack and organise a flight back to London before the doctor arrived. She headed up the stairs, unsure she could take the swaying motion and sudden stopping of the elevator. As she entered her room and flopped down onto the bed, mobile phone in hand she stared at the screen, her thumbs hovering over the buttons. She knew she should send him a text but she knew then that he’d call and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to speak to him. It was just after eight in Los Angeles and he’d definitely be up but possibly at the gym, eating breakfast or in the shower. She made up endless excuses in her head to justify why she shouldn’t text him and told herself that it made more sense to talk to him after she’d seen the doctor.

She had showered, finished packing and managed to book herself on a 10pm flight back to Heathrow. She dunked a peppermint teabag in and out of some hot water, hoping it would settle her stomach which was now fluttering with an equal mixture of nerves at seeing the doctor and nausea left over from earlier. She choked down a couple of dry biscuits hoping they’d make her feel better and froze momentarily at she heard a knock at the door.

She was grateful to be met with a friendly, smiling female face as the doctor made her way into her room, a bag slung over each shoulder and carrying a small laptop. She somehow managed to extend her right hand and Gillian shook it nervously, hoping the doctor wouldn’t notice her cold sweaty palms.

‘Hi there, I’m Dr Simms. How can I help?’

Gillian perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed as the doctor balanced her laptop on the coffee table and sat on the chair by the window.

‘It’s uh, it’s nothing really. I’m probably wasting your time…’

The doctor cocked her head to one side and smiled. ‘I can assure you that you’re not. Why don’t you talk me through some of your symptoms and let’s see what I can do to help.’

‘My son wasn’t very well over the weekend, he was sick a few times. He’s better now he went back to school on Tuesday. I started being sick when I flew in on Monday, mostly in the mornings but I’ve been sick every day up to three times a day.’

‘Any diarrhoea?’

She shook her head no.

‘Any burning or stinging when you go to pee, or any pain in your lower back?’

She shook her head again.

‘Any abdominal pain or high temperatures?’

She shook her head once more, wondering if she still had the ability to actually speak.

‘Tell me about your cycles, are you still having periods?’

Gillian froze, wringing her hands together. She had known this question and topic would come up and had been dreading it the most. ‘I last had a period in February, before that December. I assumed things were slowing down. I’m forty five so…’ 

She drifted off and watched as the doctor nodded, pausing to gather her thoughts before she asked the next question. ‘I’m terribly sorry to have to ask, but when did you last have sexual intercourse?’

She paused for a moment before answering, not because she couldn’t remember but because of the mental calculations she was busy doing in her head. ‘March. The middle of March when I was in New York.’

The doctor held out a sterile pot and a spare pair of latex gloves and handed them to her. ‘Would you mind giving me a urine sample if you can?’

She stood on shaky legs and anxiously accepting the equipment before walking slowly to the bathroom. ‘What are you…’ she cleared her throat and spoke more firmly. ‘What are you testing for?’

‘I will be honest I will test for a urinary tract infection but I want to exclude pregnancy here. Your symptoms and dates could mean you’re around 9 weeks pregnant though with your cycles being irregular it’s going to be difficult to date without a scan.’

‘You honestly think I could be pregnant? At forty five?’

‘Trust me, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve heard today.’

The doctor used a litmus paper stick to check for infection, which was negative. She used a pipette to drop some more of the urine onto a tiny square packet that took up to two minutes to give a result. They both stood awkwardly in the bathroom waiting for the blue line to appear, trying to avoid looking at each other in the mirrored wall above the sink. Gillian looked over the doctor’s shoulder and felt very nauseous again. She took a deep breath as she registered the colour change.

‘How accurate are these things?’

‘Around ninety nine percent when used properly.’

‘So I’m…’

‘Yes. You’re pregnant.’

The words spilled from the doctor’s mouth but she couldn’t hear any of them and she thought she nodded in the right places as she was spoken to. Her ears were fuzzy and her mouth had gone dry. The doctor was talking about fixing an appointment to see a gynaecologist at an early pregnancy clinic as soon as she got back to London, taking folic acid as soon as possible and ensuring she had plenty of fluids so as not to get too dehydrated with the morning sickness. She briefly examined her abdomen, was happy enough and asked if there was anyone Gillian needed to call, like the father of the child or perhaps a friend. ‘The father of the child’, she mused for a moment. David. She’d have to tell David.


	2. Chapter 2

Her phone buzzed but luckily only once and she knew it would be him texting. She was grateful he didn’t call because she definitely wasn’t ready to speak to him, she wasn’t sure she could form words. Right now she was just concentrating on taking deep breaths in and out to try and calm down. The doctor had left a few minutes ago and she had sat in stunned silence staring at the door of the hotel room and unable to move. There were so many things she had to do and she just couldn’t think straight. Her first priority was to definitely get herself to the airport and luckily she’d had the good sense to organise a taxi when she booked her flight so that was all taken care of. She’d just have to check out when they called her and she’d be on her way. The appointments and everything else would have to wait until tomorrow. She would be happy if everything could wait until tomorrow, tomorrow being the day that never really came, but she knew it couldn’t.

She unlocked her phone and read the message from him. ‘Hey sweetheart, hope you didn’t work too hard today. Call me when you get a spare moment xx’

That was the second time he’d called her sweetheart in the space of a few hours and tears sprang to the back of her eyes, falling down her face. He wouldn’t be angry, would he? Would he be worried? What would he want to do? She knew what she wanted to do, if it was possible but no doubt it would be extremely risky at her age. How on earth would she explain it to her kids? The boys would just be confused and she didn’t want to think how Piper would feel about it all. She thought about all these things yet she wasn’t about to launch into telling him over the phone. This was something that had to be done face to face and there was no way out of it.

Her hands were trembling as she went to compose a reply but she stopped. She was just delaying the inevitable, if she text him she’d only have to call him later and she was running low on time before her car arrived to take her to the airport. She should speak to him, he was clearly worrying about her and she’d hardly been forthcoming with information. She knew she should have text him before when she got back to the hotel but she’d talked herself out of it.   
With shaky fingers she hit the green button and he answered on the second ring, clearly waiting for her to call. 

‘Hey,’ he said gently.

‘Hey you.’ Her voice was far shakier than she intended and she leant against the headboard to try and steady herself and her words.

‘How you doing?’

‘I’m… I’m actually just waiting for the car to pick me up and take me to the airport.’

She could hear the sound of him breathing on the other end of the phone as he tried to work out the insinuations behind her words. ‘You’ve been sick again,’ he realised, a statement of fact rather than a question.

‘Yeah, at work this afternoon. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier I had a few things to sort out.’

‘That’s okay baby I understand.’

Baby; she winced inwardly and bit her lip to hold back more tears, wishing he’d stop being so damn nice to her but also wishing he hadn’t use that word. ‘They’ve given me a few days off filming I don’t have to be back until Tuesday.’

He nodded but realised she couldn’t hear him doing that over the phone, but was sure she could imagine it.

She heard him typing and realised he was probably at his computer when she called and she was interrupting him doing something. She could hear his breathing more evidently and imagined him as he held his phone between his chin and his shoulder.

‘I can get a flight out tonight, eight my time and be with you some time tomorrow.’

‘What?’

His suggestion caught her completely by surprise and she sat up too quickly on the bed, holding her stomach as she rubbed her spasming, sore abdominal muscles. ‘David you know you don’t have to do that, it really isn’t necessary…’

‘But I just…’

‘I’m not that bad, I really don’t want you to waste all that time and money coming to see me it won’t be worth the jetlag and tomorrow I’ll probably be fine…’

‘Please just let me worry about you? I know you don’t want me to but I can’t help it.’

She let his words sink in for a moment as she considered what he was saying and tried not to cry. Why did he have to pick tonight of all nights to be so god damn considerate. Certainly having him around would make it slightly easier to tell him and she had a funny feeling he wasn’t going to let this go until she gave into him. She was tired in more ways than one and was struggling to think of reasons why he shouldn’t fly over.

He took advantage of her silence as he clicked the button to confirm the flight booking online. Normally he wasn’t someone who relied heavily on his instincts but more on facts but he knew something wasn’t quite right and sensed she wasn’t telling him everything. He was no doctor and he had no idea what was wrong and whether it was serious but she’d been too cagey these last few days and it had really rattled him. There was no way she could lie to him face to face, he could read her like an open book having spent enough years doing it silently.

‘Okay,’ she said quietly giving in.

‘Good because I just booked my flight.’

She shook her head at his assumption and sighed long and hard into the phone.

‘Okay then I better go the car’s going to be here soon.’

‘Sure. I’ll text you my flight details. Do you want me to… I mean…’

He drifted off and she knew what he was trying to ask. Did he have to book a hotel or could he come and stay with her. She decided to put him out of his misery. ‘Get a cab to mine when you land just let me know when you’re coming.’

She clicked the red button to hang up, knowing neither of them had been very good at saying goodbye. The truth was neither of them really wanted to hang up so one of them had to be decisive enough to bite the bullet. She wondered if that was another habit they’d got from their characters.

Her phone buzzed again and she could see his message with the flight details and two kisses at the end. She smiled fondly and text him back to say thank you, hoping he’d realise just how much she meant it. The message with three kisses that came back told her that he did.

++++

Everything took so long - the car ride to the airport, the flight, the taxi ride to her house. He never had been blessed with the virtuous gift of patience. Luckily he’d somehow fallen asleep on the plane, and that had meant some of the hours had drifted away. It was now Friday, or at least he thought it was and it was late evening in England by the time he showed up at her house. 

She answered the door to him in checked pajama bottoms and a grey hooded sweater, her hair was down and her eyes looked tired. She had little tiny red spots that she got each time she was sick dotted under lower eyelids. He'd seen them before when she was pregnant with Piper. He dropped his bag with a thud in the hallway and pulled her into his  
arms.

'You okay?' he murmured into her hair as he tucked it behind her ears and combed his fingers through the silky blonde strands. 

She nodded against his chest and tightened her arms around his waist, not wanting the feeling of holding him close to end. He rubbed firm circles between her shoulder blades and she relaxed into his touch momentarily.

He stepped back from her and pressed his lips against her forehead before capturing her mouth with his, realising she seemed anxious to deepen their kiss.

'Sorry I feel all icky,' she said as he leaned his forehead against hers. He nodded and stroked her hair, understanding and just grateful to finally be with her.

She took his hand and led him into the kitchen, busying herself with making tea while he took a seat. He allowed her to make the drinks before launching into questioning her and she was grateful to him. She sipped her drink trying to ignore the elephant in the room that was the untouched and unmentioned subject of what was going on. She reached across the table to a pile of papers and handed him an open envelope with a single sheet inside.

'There's no easy way to say this... So...'

His brow was furrowed and he looked at her quizzically as he pulled out the contents of the envelope. He stared at a grainy black and white photograph before it dawned on him what he was looking at. An antenatal scan. A picture certainly did say a thousand words.

Her face remained expressionless and she looked at him from the other side of the table. His jaw set and his hand clenched around the edge of the photograph. 

'I came all the way over here and you show me this?'

Confusion was etched across her features and she opened and closed her mouth twice but no sound came out. She thought he might have been angry but hadn't quite expected this reaction from him. He almost seemed disinterested more than angry and anger she could understand at least a little. He stood up and pushed his chair back angrily, causing her to wince as the chair legs scraped loudly along the floor. The picture fell, floated down and landed beside his foot.

'I think you're sick with... With God knows what Gillian and it turns out you've fucked someone else and are having their baby? I came five thousand miles for that? Fucking hell.'

'Someone else.... I... What?'

'Who was it? That wheelclamping guy? Are you fucking him again?'

Her eyes were wide and she sat shaking her head. He thought she was cheating on him with Mark? Where on earth was he going with all this? She knew he knew her better than to think she'd be unfaithful to him yet here he was accusing her of disgusting things in her own home.

'You know I haven't been with anyone else.'

'Do I? How else do you explain it since I've had an operation that stops this kind of shit from happening.'

'This 'kind of shit'?' she said, imitating his voice. 'What the fuck David.'

This was a baby they were talking about for God's sake. She could hardly believe that she was talking to the same man who'd been so gentle and so loving to her on the phone yesterday. She stared at him in disbelief before roughly brushing past him to stand by the window, staring at her reflection in the glass.

'Oh so you're turning your back on me, that says it all.'

'Why the hell do you think I'm fucking Mark? Those operations aren't one hundred percent effective and you know it.'

'We've been... Sleeping together for a year and nothing like this has happened before. Why now?'

'Do I seriously have to explain to you how this works?'

He walked towards her and looked at her face in the window, arms folded around herself and chewing on her thumb nail. She saw him tentatively lift his hands up to place on her shoulders but met his gaze in the window and gave a single shake of her head to tell him no. She didn't want him to touch her just yet. He let his eyes close shut in defeat.

'What are you going to do?'

'Oh so this is up to me now? You come all the way over here, accuse me of cheating on you when you know you're the only man I've been with in months and this is now just my problem.'

'It's not that it's... You'll be...'

'Get out.'

'What?' He was shocked. True enough he'd behaved like a total jerk but he had just flown across an ocean to see her and now she was telling him to go already. He'd hardly been  
there five minutes. 

'You heard. If you're going to be like this David you can get the fuck out of my house. I don't need you pretending to care or pretending to worry about me.'

She turned to leave the room in the hope he’d take the hint and follow her but she wasn't quick enough walking past him and he grabbed a hold of her elbow. She tried to twist out of his grasp but he was too strong so she deliberately looked at the floor to avoid his eyes.

'I'm sorry. Don't... I just got here and I fucked things up in five minutes. I am sorry.'

He let go of her elbow when he was sure she wasn't going to try to walk away from him anymore but she still refused to look at him, her eyes on the floor deliberately.  
Big fat tear drops were falling down her face and she couldn't look at him. He had really hurt her when he accused her of sleeping with someone else and with Mark of all people. He knew her heart had never been in that relationship and it was ironic that it lasted as long as it did. She didn't want to forgive him, he didn't deserve it.

She finally looked up at him and he saw the damage he'd done, he really had hurt her and in doing so had hurt himself. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks as fresh ones pooled in her eyes ready to join them.

'Oh God,' he whispered as he pulled her against him. She didn't return his hold but she wanted comforting as much as it pained her to admit it.

'I still want you to go,' she croaked shakily, knowing her voice lacked the conviction she wished it to have. 

He was stroking her hair again and rubbing her back and she knew he could feel her relaxing into his touch and berated herself for it. Eventually she wrapped her arms gently and shakily around him and he squeezed her to him tightly. He was murmuring into her hair a mixture of phrases; that he was sorry, that it was all going to be okay and shushing her as her tears came to a gradual stop. They broke apart and he gently brushed away the remaining tears from her cheeks and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

'Let me stay? Please?'

She nodded her ascent as he knew she would and he cracked a small smile at her before pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. He whispered a thank you to her before he walked over to the table and picked up the discarded photograph from the floor, putting the chair back in its place. She watched him as he studied the photograph, turning it one way and then the other to try and figure it out.

'How many weeks?'

'Nearly ten.'

'New York?'

She nodded again and he smiled at the memories it brought back. He had been scared at the thought of her with someone else and as it was all too evident he hadn't considered the possibility that his vasectomy hadn't been effective. His first worry was that she'd given up on them as anything more than two people who slept together when they were in the same city and had looked closer to home for some comfort. He wouldn't have blamed her for that at all, he knew he didn't deserve her and over the last twenty years she'd come back to him more times than he could count, still wanting him to be a part of her life.

‘So you went to the doctor then.’

‘Yes.’

‘I know I behaved like a total jerk back there but please at least talk to me about this Gillian.’

She sighed, knowing she was deliberately giving him a hard time. It was harder than she thought to give him such short answers and at least he sounded genuinely more interested than he was earlier. She sat down again and pulled one leg up on the chair seat, hugging her knee to her chest.

‘I’m nearly ten weeks pregnant according to that scan. I’ve got another scan in two weeks. They said it’s… It’s considered a high risk pregnancy, but having had three kids goes in my favour.’

He was silent as he leant against the table, nodding in earnest as he took in the information, toes making an imaginary line on the floor. For once she found his expression difficult to read and was desperate to know what he was thinking.

‘High risk? For who?’

‘Both of us,’ she whispered, staring into the middle distance as she swiped again at her eyes to dry them with her sleeve. She cleared her throat and spoke up a little more. ‘What are you thinking?’

He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and knelt on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in his.

‘I’m thinking can I do this, can you do this, can we do this? Are we ready to dot this? And that it’s you who’ll be pregnant, you’re carrying our baby.’

She couldn’t help but laugh at how ludicrous and fucked up it sounded. Their baby. But at least she wasn’t crying again and for the first time since he arrived he’d seen her laugh, her eyes showing him a hint of their normal sparkle. He gave one hand a squeeze while the other tentatively reached for her stomach, rubbing across her lower abdomen.  
She felt the warmth from his touch flood through her and smiled again. It seemed he was actually interested in this baby, even if he wasn’t completely committed to her. She sensed he would be with a child involved and hoped he wasn’t sticking around just for some misplaced loyalty to their unborn child. She had known as soon as the blue line on the stick appeared that she wanted this. Way back when in 1994 she had wanted his baby and it was either lucky or unlucky that things hadn’t worked out for them. It had been a close call with dates but her daughter was indeed a honeymoon baby; she had tried not to be too disappointed when she worked it out. She had never been too sure how he felt about the whole thing and then one day she realised she had run out of opportunities to ask.

‘I think I need to go and lie down, try and get some sleep.’

He realised just how late at night it was for her and felt bad for depriving her of much needed rest. He bent his head forward and she wondered what he was doing until she felt his nose nuzzle her belly and his lips place a soft, lingering kiss there. She was barely able to hold back the small sob that escaped her lips. My god he could be so loving when he put his mind to it and for a few seconds she had wondered what life would be like if her dates for her daughter had been different. 

He stood up and hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her head so her eyes met his. Her tears her stopped but her face was stained as he tucked her hair behind her ear and held out his hand to lead her upstairs. He paused as she stood up and placed a closed mouth kiss to her lips. She faltered for her next words.

‘Would you mind… I just…’

‘I can sleep in the spare room. I don’t even know what day or what time it is and I certainly don’t feel like going to sleep.’

She knew he would understand what she was trying to say and that she needed a little bit of time and space from both him and the thoughts that were reeling from her mind. There was always the morning for them both and even after all that had been said, she was still glad he was there and he knew her news. Neither of them had voiced their decisions yet but she sensed they were on the same page with this and she’d be facing this with him and not without him.


End file.
